His Son
by EmeraldFire512
Summary: Arthur Weasley's dearest ambition in life is to protect his family. Yet his youngest son always seems to be in the line of fire. This is the story of his side of his son's Hogwarts years; of how he watched his son grow, learn, and fight a war.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I am back with another story! I know I should be working on my other stories in progress, but this story popped into my head one night (4/20/11 to be exact, long story as to why I ended up sitting in my friends' room at school writing fanfiction to get my mind off of things at 4 am that day) and I loved the idea. Coincidentally; that was also the night that I started working on the Missing Moments series, but none of this is the point right now.

I ending up writing this because I really love Arthur's character and his relationship with Ron has always fascinated me. Ron being his youngest son, always being in the thick of things, and always in the line of fire has got to be a lot for a parent to deal with. Also, within the book, we really only tend to hear from Molly, so I thought it was time to give Arthur a chance. So this story will focus on Arthur and Ron through each year of the series and all that goes on. The plan right now is for a year a chapter, but I think 6th and 7th year may require more than one, but I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.

Vale. So, without further ado, enjoy the first chapter of my new favorite work in progress, and the longest single chapter I have ever written without text from the books! But first,

**Disclaimer:** I do not own it. I have never, nor will I ever. If I did, I would have to leave Spain in 3 weeks knowing I will probably never make it back here...

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><p><strong>Year One: Why?<strong>

Arthur Weasley remembers very clearly the first time that he was informed by Hogwarts that his youngest son had been injured in a perilous situation. He could recall the blind panic and barely contained fury. How could Dumbledore have let this happen? How could three first year students find out what was being hidden in the depths of the school and take it upon themselves to protect it without a single teacher ever finding out? Wasn't the point of school for their children to learn what they would need for later in life? How were they supposed to prepare for life after Hogwarts if they were getting themselves into life threatening situations in their first year?

Arthur had already sent his first five sons to Hogwarts, two of which had already graduated and were moving on with their lives, and they worst that had happened to any of them were quidditch injuries. But here was his youngest son, only in his first year, getting himself hurt sacrificing himself to save his friends during a game of life-sized chess. If Arthur was honest with himself, he was extremely proud of his son. He was proud that he had the courage to do what he felt had to be done, but at the same time terrified. His willingness to not only help his friends, but to sacrifice himself for them had the potential to be disastrous if the three of them ended up in any more trouble in the future, and somehow Arthur had a feeling that these three would end up in trouble again at one point. His anger was beyond words, but he managed to find some, which he yelled and paced in the kitchen while his wife sobbed. Arthur Weasley was a man who rarely yelled, but the safety of his child was something worth becoming incensed by. He did not realize how loud he had been venting his frustrations until he noticed a little wide-eyed red headed girl in a pink dressing gown peering down at the kitchen from the stairway. He immediately felt his temper deflate like a balloon,

"Ginny," he said softly, "come down here."

She obliged her brown eyes still wide and scared. When she drew closer he stooped down to hug her,

"I'm sorry I woke you sweetheart."

His little 10 year old daughter snuggled into the embrace and asked hesitantly,

"What are you so angry about Dad?"

"Just something that has happened Gin."

His youngest hesitated for a few moments before asking hesitantly, "Dad, is Ron going to be okay?"

Arthur closed his eyes briefly. Apparently she had been listening for a while. Not how he would have chosen for her to find out.

"Yes dear, he is going to be just fine. He was just hurt a little, but he was doing something very brave."

"What was he doing?"

"He was helping Harry Potter."

Despite all of the worries, Arthur had to inwardly suppress a small chuckle as he watched his daughter's chocolate brown eyes widen to the size of saucers, "Ron really knows Harry Potter?"

This time Arthur did chuckle, juts slightly, "of course he does Ginny. Didn't he tell you that in all of his letters?"

Ginny shrugged, "I thought he was trying to trick me."

"Ron wouldn't do that to you Ginny, he cares about you too much."

"So all of his stories are true?"

"Yes Ginny, they are."

Her eyes lit up like a thousand lumoses, and Arthur smiled. He gave her another hug, and passed her off to Molly who gave her a kiss and went off to tuck her into bed. He smiled wearily as he watched his wife and daughter heading up the stairs, and then returned himself to the present topic at hand.

For now, there was nothing to do. Ron had been thoroughly examined by Poppy Pomfrey and had been allowed to continue on with his everyday life at Hogwarts. Arthur knew that the injury was a minor one, nothing to worry about under the exceptional care of Poppy. His son would be fine, and all of his children would be back from school in a few days. All he could do now was wait.

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><p>Less than a week later, Arthur apparated to the gate of the Burrow and paused to gaze at it. There was much more chatter in the air, a clear indication that his children had returned home from Hogwarts. He smiled to himself as he pushed open the gate and strode up the path. He had barely made it halfway when Ginny came flying out to meet him. Arthur braced himself for impact as a small red headed comet it him.<p>

"Dad they're back! They're all home! Percy and Fred and George and Ron! They're here! Come and see them!"

Arthur chuckled and allowed himself to get led into his house by his very impatient daughter. Once he cleared the kitchen door he was surrounded by a larger swarm of red heads. There were hugs all around for all of his boys, even Percy who declared that he was "much too old for that Father", and a seemingly endless cacophonous cloud of stories, news, and gossip.

The commotion continued straight through dinner until the last tart had been eaten and all the plates were clear. Molly began to clear the dishes, but after placed a hand on her arm to stop her. "Molly, let me do it. You have done enough already."

She gave him a weary smile, "Alright dear. Ron, why don't you stay here and help your father. The rest of you, I want you up in your rooms unpacking. Go on."

Arthur smiled at her over the scrapping of chairs and footsteps on the stairs. He had a feeling Molly knew of his desire to talk to Ron. Try as he might, he couldn't hide anything from her. Once all of his other sons had traipsed upstairs to their prospective trunks, with a bouncing Ginny in their wake, Arthur stood and began to gather the dishes, Ron following suit. He waited until the first dish had been washed and Ron was drying it before speaking, "How'd you like Hogwarts?"

A reminiscent smile appeared on Ron's face before he answered, "It was great. 'Course not the homework and all that, but everything else…" he trailed off and his smile grew larger.

Arthur chuckled. "Tell me more about these friends of yours. Harry and Hermione?"

His face brightened even more as he began to describe studious, serious, brilliant, kind Hermione and daring, brave, funny, stubborn Harry. He rushed on to say that he had hope to invite Harry to come and stay this summer, and how Hermione had threatened to never let him borrow her notes again if he didn't write her over the holiday. The stack of soiled dished had depleted considerably by the time Ron had finished. Arthur decided that it was time to bring up what had been on his mind.

"Ron, what happened towards the end of term? I got a letter from Professor McGonagall, but I would like to hear it from you as well."

The smile slipped off of Ron's face. He studied the dish in his hand for a moment, watching as he water dripped off of it onto the floor. "It all started I guess," he began, "when Malfoy challenged Harry to a duel…"

With that he began the tale. Arthur put down the dish he had been washing and leaned against the counter, facing his youngest son. He held his tongue through all of the near misses and dangerous happening, knowing that if he stopped his son now, he would never get to hear the end of the tale. When Ron reached the chess chamber though, Arthur could not stop the pain at hearing of his son's ordeal from showing on his face. After he relayed the part with the opposing Queen striking him across the head with her stone arm, Ron trailed off.

"After that, I really don't know what happened," he admitted with a frown, "I remember coming around to Hermione trying to wake me up, but she was alone. I asked her where Harry was and she almost started crying. She told me that he had gone on his own. I just know that I was terrified. I didn't think that Harry would be able to hold his own against Snape, well at the time at least I thought it was Snape. I wanted to go after him to help, but Hermione explained to me about the potion, and how there had only been enough for one to go on, and if we wanted to help we had to run to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. So she helped me up, and we ran towards the owlery. On our way there, we ran into Dumbledore heading towards the corridor. When he saw me and Hermione, he stopped and said, "Harry's gone after him hasn't he?", then he rushed down the corridor we had just come from. I don't really remember what happened after that either, because Hermione dragged me to the hospital wing and Pompfrey made me spend the night, I only know that I woke up at one point, and Harry was in the bed next to me, completely knocked out. Pompfrey told me he would be okay, and then gave me more potion to make me sleep. The next morning she told me I could go, but Harry didn't even wake up for another two days. The same morning I was in the hospital wing we lost the quidditch cup, obviously as there was no chance of us winning without Harry, but we still managed to win the house cup with all of the points that Dumbledore gave Harry, Hermione, Neville, and me last minute. Then we packed up and left."

Arthur remained where he was, leaned up against the sink, clutching the dish rag so tightly that he was wringing it out and it was beginning to form a pool of water by his feet yet he took no notice. He simply stared down at his youngest son, who now, at the conclusion of his tale was looking a bit pink around the ears, and was busing himself with the remaining dishes, determinably avoided his father's gaze. He was having trouble processing. Three-headed dogs, dragons, gargantuan devil's snare, life-size chess pieces…it was all too much. All of a sudden it rushed over him with the force of a typhoon and the dish towel sailed to the floor as he enfolded his son in a hug that almost rivaled one of Molly's. After receiving the owl from Dumbledore about the incident with the chess piece, Arthur had thought that he knew what the sheer panic of almost losing a child was like. Yet after hearing the full extent of the year, he know realized that he had come within a hair's breadth of losing his youngest son nearly half a dozen times without even knowing it. The thought terrified him, and he clutched Ron even harder knowing that he had almost lost him. After a few moments, he released Ron, who stepped back and glanced down at the floor, his ears so red they were nearly invisible amongst his hair. The sight was one Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at, which was a welcome relief after the past few minutes of intensity. At the sound of his laughter, Ron glanced up and smiled, the redness of his ears depleting gradually.

With the tension broken, they returned to the dishes and worked in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes. After he had washed the last dish and passed it to Ron to dry, he turned to face him again, debating whether or not to ask the question that had been rolling around his mind for the past few minutes. Further deliberation was ceased however when he blurted it out; "Why did you do it?"

He saw the towel falter on the last dish as Ron heard the question. "Er, sorry?" he replied.

"The chess game. Why did you let the queen take you? Surely you could have figured out another way?"

Ron simply shrugged, "Because I had too. I may have been able to come up with another move, but it would have taken time, which was something we were lacking. Also, I was sure that neither Harry nor Hermione would get hurt this way. Any other way, it wasn't certain, and that was something I couldn't have let happen. If either of them had gotten hurt and it was my fault, I would have never forgiven myself."

Arthur found himself vaguely taken aback by the blunt honesty and maturity in his son's words, but there were still things that refused to compute, "But surely they would not have expected you to do that. Surely they would have agreed to any other plan that didn't make you get hurt?"

"They would've, but I didn't give them the option. I told them it was the only way. It's true I may have been able to find an alternative, but I wasn't certain, and it would have wasted time. What I did was for the best, they were both safe, Harry saved the stone, and the world was saved from an immortal Voldemort. I decided that against all of what was at stake, I could afford to sacrifice myself. I knew I would rather do that then have everyone I cared about living with a crazy evil immortal wizard."

This time Arthur could think of nothing more to say. He gave his son a smile, told him he could handle putting away all of the dry dished and wished him goodnight. With another hug, he sent his son off to unpack his trunk with a smile. As he watched him head towards the stairs, he allowed himself to think about what Ron had said. Truth be told, Arthur was impressed. He barely expected to hear such things from Bill, Charlie or Percy, let alone 11 year-old Ron. Yet it scared him, sacred him beyond words. His son was so brave, and had such a clear idea of right and wrong. Overall, Arthur felt proud, possibly prouder than he had ever been of any of his children. Yet there was still a nagging fear in the back of his mind, very near to the sense of foreboding. He had a feeling that this would not be the last time Ron got himself into a dangerous situation. With a friend like Harry Potter, who already seemed to be somewhat of a trouble magnet (Arthur silently pleaded that he wouldn't end up _too_ much like his father during James' Hogwarts years) it was bound to happen. If Ron kept thinking this way, putting the greater good, or his friends, before himself, Arthur would most likely find himself losing a son. He didn't think he would be able to handle that, no matter when, no matter the situation.

Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses before returning to the dishes. He sincerely hoped that this incident would be the end of the craziness for a while. He wasn't sure how much more of this he would be able to handle before he either snapped or had a nervous breakdown. As he put away the last dish and shut the cupboard door behind it, he reasoned that he should at least have a few years of peace before he had to worry about any of that. How much more trouble could three pre-teens get into anyways?


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, it all belongs to JKR and her publishers, lawyers, etc. If I owned it, there would be no issue with the Reading the Book fics.

**Year Two: How?**

Arthur Weasley paced Minerva McGonagall's office, at a loss for words. He felt thoroughly defeated. His youngest child, his sweet innocent little girl, had fallen prey to some monster of legend. The only clue was a menacing message written on the wall in blood, and there was nothing anyone could do to save her. No one knew of the entrance to this so called 'Chamber of Secrets', or even what lay in there. All they could do was except the inevitable, and Arthur hated it.

This was the kind of thing that struck at his very core. His dearest ambition in life, beyond finding out how airplanes stay up, was to keep his family safe. Yet here was a situation in which he had no power. He was a useless as the gnomes in the garden, and his precious little girl had to pay the price.

He paced some more; his wife's sobs pulling at his heart strings. Part of the reason he paced was to resist the urge to hold her and tell her everything would be alright, because he hated lying to Molly, and he couldn't stand the thought of giving her false hope. Not now, not this time.

The longer he paced, the more his pain numbed, and the more thoughts fought their way into his mind. His oldest sons; Bill and Charlie, would have to be notified. Arthur was not looking forward to writing those letters. The other four already knew; they were here at Hogwarts. They would come home with him and Molly. He would have to ask Minerva to summon them soon; there was no point in avoiding the inevitable. They had best get a move on.

Yet he could not. He could not force himself to move forward, because that would mean admitting to the unthinkable, but the inevitable. His little girl was dead. He did not bother to try to stop the hot tears which were now rolling down his face. Instead his pacing halted and instead he turned his back to the others and gripped the mantel piece, willing himself to remain standing. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink further into his misery, sinking further into the blackness before Minerva's office door swung open.

Arthur spun around, hope flaring into his chest, expecting to see Ginny standing in the doorway, only to feel his hopes crash when he saw the imposing figure of Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway. He let out a weary sigh and let his body rest upon the mantel piece again, the sudden burst of emotion and disappointment robbing him of whatever energy he had had. "_Albus!"_ he heard Molly cry, as Minerva rocketed to her feet at the same moment. The usually reserved deputy headmistress rushed to her friend's side,

"Albus, have you any news?"

The venerable silvered haired wizard shook his head remorsefully.

"I am no closer to knowing the location of the Chamber now than I was 50 years ago when this whole mess first started." Albus turned to look over a Arthur and Molly with uncharacteristically somber eyes, "Molly, Arthur, I am terribly sorry for all the pain that you must be going through, and I would like you to know that you have all of the sympathy Hogwarts can offer, for whatever good that does."

Arthur stared at the ground as Albus' words washed over him. They were meaningless words; they meant nothing. He felt his anger boiling inside, his little girl was dead and Dumbledore was concerned with niceties.

"I'd have to say that it does us a bloody worthless amount of good actually Dumbledore."

Arthur spoke without even realizing it, and the shocked glances he received from the other inhabitants of the room only drove to motivate him:

"You are supposed to be the most brilliant wizard of the age Dumbledore, perhaps ever, and yet you cannot manage to find one secret passage way. Clearly it is findable, because whichever monster that took my daughter managed to find it just fine, yet you cannot seem to do anything. Why is that Dumbledore? Does your brilliance simply take a leave of absence when the situation at hand actually matters? This is not something to learn where you can try and try again Dumbledore; this is my daughter's life!"

By the time he finished his tirade, Arthur could feel hot tears running down his face again. He paused to wipe them away in frustration, but the rest of his angry monologue was lost when he looked at the man he had just verbally assaulted. Arthur Weasley had known Albus Dumbledore for a long time, both as a student and then as an adult after school, and never had he seen the man look more defeated. It seemed as if Arthur had just voiced all of his internal responses to the situation at hand, which he had clearly been trying to repress, and it made him feel terrible.

"I'm sorry Albus, I didn't mean that," Arthur said wearily into the silence.

"Ah, but you did my friend," Dumbledore replied somberly, "and it was well deserved. If ever a man had a cause and a right to yell at me, it is you. I hope you know that I do in fact intend to do everything in my power to get your daughter back safely, however impossible it might seem. The problem would lie, it would seem, in the fact that no one in living memory has ever discovered the location of the Chamber, and I haven't the slightest clue as to where to begin."

Arthur sank back into the support of the mantel piece. Once again, his hope had been shattered. He didn't know how much more of this his heart could take. He vaguely heard Minerva asking if he was sure they had checked _every inch_ of the dungeons and his wife's muffled sobs, which still their softened state struck him like a physical blow. The two professors continued their frantic argument of where to search next but Arthur did not join in. He felt no need. For whatever else he may be, Arthur Weasley was eternally realistic. He knew that for all of the brilliance of Dumbledore his daughter had only the slimmest chance of living, if she was even still alive. He closed his eyes and hoped against hope that by some miracle, his little angel would make it out alive.

Arthur was jolted from his sorrowful reverie by a knock at the door. He opened his eyes to see if either Albus or Minerva had been expecting anyone else, not sure if he could bare anymore witnesses to their familial sorrow, but saw that they were both as confused as he was. Before anyone had a chance to reply to the summons, the door swung open and one of the motliest crews Arthur had ever seen had opened up. First entered Harry, coated in blood and slime clutching a blood covered sword. He was immediately followed by a phoenix, which was closely followed by Ron, coated in grime and clutching the hand of his sister, who was white as a sheet but very much alive! Arthur could barely believe his eyes. After an entire evening or worry, he couldn't believe it. Perhaps his mind had reached the breaking point and he was hallucinating. The headmaster's study had been engulfed in a nearly crippling silence as soon as the door had opened and he found himself unable to speak for fear that he may shatter the illusion. If he was imagining this, he would like to enjoy it for just a little bit longer. He vaguely wondered if the others were having similar hallucinations as they too had remained silent.

"GINNY!"

His wife's cry interrupted his musings and he watch as she flew out of her seat to the door and threw her arms around his hallucination. But she made contact – which meant that his little girl _was _actually safe! He rapidly blinked back tears and ran forwards to hug her too. She was alive, Ginny was safe! He could scarcely believe it; ten minutes previous he had been preparing himself to give up hope and except the inevitable. He hugged his daughter closer to him as his wife let go to hug the two boys. There would be stories and questions to come, but for now, everything was perfect.

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><p>An hour or so later, Arthur was strolling through the halls of the castle. He had decided to take a walk to clear his head, and to give the people just returning from their petrified states some privacy. He was happy to see that it had all worked out for the best and that his daughter would likely suffer no long term effects of the physical sort from this ordeal. Emotional effects were another case entirely, and Arthur was not entirely sure how they were going to handle that. These were problems he had never dreamed of encountering with his children, especially not at Ginny's age. What she had gone through…it was more than Arthur had previously thought his eldest children barely capable of coping with. Yet it was his two youngest that got wrapped up in this mess. The thought that You Know Who had possessed his baby girl was enough to make Arthur ready to kill. Instead, his worry had manifested into anger, with which he confronted Ginny about trusting an object that could think for itself. By that point though, his nerves had been on the breaking point. Listening to Harry's tale of their year – mysterious voices, ominous messages written in blood on the wall – it all sounded like one of those muggle gothic novels Arthur had read as a boy. There had even been a secret chamber and a trap door.<p>

But this wasn't a novel: this was his children's life. If things kept up at this rate, Arthur would be completely gray by the end of Ginny's 5th year. He heaved a weary sigh as he turned a corner, nearly colliding with his youngest son. "Ron!" Arthur exclaimed with a smile, "what are you doing up here? How'd everything go with the headmaster?"

Ron shrugged, "Okay I guess, me and Harry aren't going to be punished. I'm just on my way to the great hall, Dumbledore asked me to bring a letter to the owlery so Hagrid could be released from Azkaban."

Arthur winced at that – he had forgotten that the gamekeeper had been arrested.

"But what are you doing up here Dad?" Ron questioned.

"Just trying to give the petrified people some privacy as they get antiquated. It really must be unsettling to wake up all of a sudden and not know that several months have passed." Arthur paused to shake his head in disbelief. Ron jumped in with a question, "Did you see Hermione? Is she okay?"

Arthur inwardly suppressed a chuckle at the look on his son's face, "I'm sure she's fine Ron, but I wasn't really watching, so I did not actually see her."

Ron's face fell, and returned to slight grimace he had been wearing in the split second before he had noticed Arthur. It concerned Arthur, and suddenly he felt guilty. He had been so concerned with Ginny, and then so busy listening to Harry that he has really not given a moment's thought to check up on Ron. He had been through a lot tonight – in the past year really if Harry's story was anything to go by – and Arthur had never stopped to check on him to see if he was okay.

"Are you okay son?"

Ron looked startled by the question, "Me? Of course, I'm fine."

Arthur looked at him quizzically, "Are you sure you're fine? You've been though a lot Ron, it's okay to admit you are shaken or were scared, I'm not going to think any less of you."

Ron looked down at his feet and slowly begins to speak. "It's just…after Hermione was attacked, Harry and I got more desperate to find answers. The only clue we had was 'follow the spiders.' I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about the idea mind you, but I went with it, because at that point I just wanted to make sure that whoever had attacked Hermione and all those other people was caught so they could be punished. But once we found spiders to follow, they went into the forbidden forest. So we snuck out that night, and went into the forest after the spiders." Ron paused here, glancing at his father as if to gauge his reaction, to see if he was going to get into trouble. The only thing Arthur felt was shock. Sensing that he was not about to be scolded, Ron carried on:

"When we followed them, they led us into a deep part of the forest I'm sure not even the twins have ever been into. They ended up leading us into their colony, where we met one of Hagrid's 'pets' – a spider the size of a small elephant." Arthur abruptly looked up to see if his son was joking, but there was not a trace of humor on his face. "He was the father of the colony, there were thousands of spiders – all of them at least as big as Harry and I – and they were also apparently man eaters. There we were: surrounded by giant, man eating spiders, and I froze. Completely. I couldn't even scream. I just left Harry there to deal with it all. He would have been better off going alone, at least then he wouldn't have had to drag my useless arse with him."

Arthur sighed. He wasn't sure how to address this issue with his son – for the umpteenth time that night he lamented that it was his two youngest children involved in everything. They would need his guidance more than the older ones would have and he wasn't sure how to proceed. He watched sadly as Ron sank onto the floor and stared at his hands, ashamed of what he had admitted.

"Ron," he began as he sat down next to his son, "being afraid of something is nothing to be ashamed of. And doing what you did – facing your fear head knowingly – shows more courage than not being afraid of anything ever could. A fool ignores fear, a wise man acknowledges it, and a brave man confronts it."

Ron looked at him, "Where is that from?

"Just something my father used to say."

Ron nodded, but still looked concerned about something. Arthur studied him quizzically for a few moments before asking once again: "what else is on your mind son?"

Ron looked at him in surprise but before he could ask the question forming in his mind Arthur put up a hand: "I know you Ron, that look means that there is still something bothering you. So why don't you just tell me about it, maybe I can help."

His son still looked rather shocked by his father's brusque revelation but began to speak regardless; "I was just thinking about tonight, when me and Harry had gone to the chamber. Lockhart tackled me, and tried to use my wand to erase our memories, but since it's kind of broken, the spell backfired and caused a cave-in." Seeing Arthur's sudden look of panic, Ron hastily added, "We were all fine though. I mean, Lockhart lost his memory and all, but no one was hurt. The problem was that Harry got separated from be the wall of rocks from the cave in, so he continued on to the chamber alone. I was so scared. No in the same was as I was with the acromantulas, but terrified. I already thought I was going lose my sister, but now my best friend was going after her and would probably have to face the King of Serpents. I didn't want to lose anybody else I cared about. If it hadn't been for that stupid cave in, I could have gone with him. The waiting, while shifting rocks, was horrible. I was thinking about how it would be if Ginny died, and then if Harry never came back on top of that…I didn't know how I was going to cope. I think I was more scared of them dying than I was of Aragog."

Arthur sighed again, for what felt like the fifteenth time that night. "Ron," he began wearily, "that's normal, I don't think you need me to tell you that. Our intangible fears are often more difficult to conquer than our tangible ones. They are something that you typically become more accustomed to as you grow older, but with all that you've been through at your age you are realizing them early. Fears like really can't be conquered, they are just things that don't occupy our minds very often. Usually we only think of them when a dangerous situation is thrust upon us. During the War, it was a constant fear – ever present. Since the end of the war, they tend to become more latent. Of course you would be afraid for your sister and Harry. It's a part of caring for the people around you. It just shows that you have compassion. I'm just sorry you've had to experience it so young."

They sat in silence for a few more moments in Ron looked pensively at the wall across from them before Arthur decided to change the subject, "Didn't I hear something about a feast happening tonight?"

Ron's face lit up as he grinned, "That's right; I nearly forgot that Dumbledore had said that!"

Arthur chuckled, "Well you better get going so you can catch up with Harry." He stood up as his son did and gave him a quick hug and ruffled his hair lightly, ignoring his protest, before watching him scurry away to find his best friend. As he watched Ron disappear around the corner he felt his heart swell with pride. Ron was braver than he knew, and he cared so much. Any 13 year-old boy who would face his greatest fear to save his friends was destined to do great things. Along with the compassion and intelligence of Hermione and the determination and bravery of Harry, Ron would do great things. _Who knows_, Arthur thought as he began to head back to the hospital wing and his wife, _he might even change the world. _

A/N_: _Ta-da! I know, I know, it's been a while. The space between my updates may be long but I swear I will never give up on any of my stories. Now I hope you enjoyed it, and please check out my other stories. If you like this, you are sure to love them as well.

In other news, is anyone else as indignant as I am over the crusade against the reading the book stories? I love them, and now they are nearly impossible to find. I find it really depressing honestly. What is fanfiction coming to? Anyways, please review!

Cheers, EmeraldFire


	3. Chapter 3: Author's Note

Hello everyone!

Firstly, I must apologize for my lack of update. I still love this story, but I am having a really hard time with the 3rd year. I don't know where to go with it. I have a plan for the 4th, the 5th, the 6th, and both parts of the 7th (yes, there will be 2 parts) but Third year is kicking my ass. But I am working on it – I promise.

Hopefully we will all see some results soon! In the meantime, I have moved onto some Jily stuff (because I love them and I have barely written them) so be on the look out for that.

Cheers,

Jillian


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